Resistance and Distance
by littlefishbigpond81
Summary: Why is it that Clare feels so comfortable telling Eli everything, and yet she knows next to nothing about him? A little angst, a little humor! Different events leading up to, and not far after, Still Fighting It, Part 1... rated T just in case!


**A/N: Hi! So, this is my first Degrassi fic, and I'm soooo psyched for it… I fell in love with this show two years ago when they started airing Season 8 on the N (which is now Teen Nick, **_**le duh**_**). This is my first attempt at **_**any**_** kind of angsty fic, and it has some humor in it (of course! Eli just oozes dry humor :3 ), so if I'm doing really bad, kinda bad, or even just a teensy-weensy bit bad, puh-leeeeeeeeeeeeez let me know! I'd rather fix my mistakes than go on blindly thinking that I was doing a good job… thanks!**

**Clare POV**

"And, in regards to those among you who _don't_ believe Clemens was justified in making stereotypical references in his novels, you can write a three to four page essay on why you believe that is so," Ms. Dawes concludes, making a special gesture towards Eli. "Due tomorrow, by the way." He huffs impatiently.

The end-of-school bell rings.

"Can you believe her?" Eli asks me as we walk down the hall, filled with students eager to leave. " 'You can write a three to four page essay on why you believe that is so.' Am I _allowed_ to have an opinion?" His imitation of our teacher is spot on.

"I guess that's what you get for arguing with an English teacher about her most favorite author," I giggle.

Eli smirks at me. "Whatever," he replies. "So, you wanna help me with my essay tonight?" We've come to the entrance to the school, and he holds the door open, waiting for me to pass.

"Can't," I answer, walking by him and down the steps. "I told my mom I'd be home right after school today. Though," I add, "it shouldn't matter so much to her. She's at my aunt's house tonight…"

Eli cocks an eyebrow at me.

_Oh no._ "I shouldn't have said that. Forget I let that slip… please?"

"I have an excellent memory, Clare," Eli replies, sarcasm and allure dripping from his voice. He stops me from crossing to the parking lot.

I know exactly what he's thinking. But, I'm sure he knows exactly what _I'm _thinking as well. I can't go to his house on a school night, even if it _is_ to help him with homework. My dad's on a business trip in Windsor (which Eli is well aware of), and my mom trusts me to keep my word and go home. Directly home, with no distractions. She even told me not to stop at the Dot, which is a usual thing for me. No, I _definitely_ cannot let Eli get inside my head this evening.

Yet, Eli is _always _inside my head. He scares me and excites me more than anything I've ever known before I met him. It's kind of thrilling, and a welcome change from my good-girl Christian upbringing. What makes the whole thing worse in a good kind of way is that Eli obviously knows what he does to me, and keeps on making me question certain things, like bullies, or stereotypes. And there's also the fact that Eli draws me in like he's a vampire or something. It doesn't help that I'm extremely attracted to him. God, forgive me, but I just can't get enough, and it confuses me to no end.

"Come on, Eli. I can't tonight, okay?" I try to push by him, but he just grabs me gently by the shoulder and turns me around again.

"Is this really a matter of your parents finding out? Or are you just scared of spending some time with me? Alone?" He smiles his dumb Eli-smile, and I can feel the blush creeping onto my cheeks.

Every time he smiles like that, I feel so faint, which in turn makes me feel really lame. I _don't_ want to be his giggly fan-girl and boost his ever-growing ego. But I just can't help it!

In defiance, I set my jaw and look him directly in the eyes… oh, man, not a good idea. I settle for the bridge of his nose instead. "I'll make you a deal," I suggest. "I'll help you with your homework if you write the essay at my house."

He looks at me for a second, like he's trying to figure me out, and then his face breaks into another smirk. God help me. "My dear Clare, wherever else would we go?"

Ugh! It's those stupid, baffling questions of his that make me just wanna tear out all of my hair and throw it in his face!

-~:~-

I don't live too far from school. Most days, my mom gives me a ride in the morning because it's on the way to her work, and then I walk home. But ever since becoming "writing partners" in English, Eli will drop me off in front of my house after school instead. It took a little getting used to, but Morty is actually a pretty nice car – I mean, hearse. (Eli'll give you a death stare if you call Morty a "car".) The interior is all black, of course, but it has a nice stereo system – perfect for the screamo Eli likes to blare to get on my nerves, but also perfect for the pop songs on my iPod that I'll plug into his radio for some good old-fashioned retaliation.

Today, it's screamo coming out of the speakers, but I don't mind. That way, I'm distracted from any thoughts of Eli popping up here and there like they normally do. He just gets so under my skin!

"So, Clare," Eli says, turning down the volume as he backs out of the school parking lot. "What made you assume we were going to my place?"

This is _not_ the sort of question I want to answer.

"Well, I figured that's where you _normally_ do your homework, so you'd want my help there," I lie. I'm not very good at coming up with stories on the spot, but that one was pretty good if I do say so mys–

"You're lying," he insists, staring straight out the windshield.

"No, actually, I'm not. Why else would I think that's what you meant?"

All Eli does in response is laugh to himself, shaking his head. I scoff, roll my eyes, and lean on the door until we reach my house.

**Eli POV**

Clare is still pissed at me for being obnoxious. She'll get over it, though – she always does.

Besides, it's her fault for jumping to conclusions. Though it did cross my mind, I'd never let Clare come over to my house. There are too many ways for her to find out about my past. I mean, it's not that bad if you look past the… accident, but who knows how she'd react to that, and then there's the whole thing with my parents, and she doesn't need that right now.

_I_ don't need that right now.

She walks into the house without a second glance back at me. I just roll my eyes – she can be a pretty dramatic drama queen sometimes.

Her house is pretty nice. Neat and clean, almost neurotically so. There's nothing that _really_ boasts her family's wealth, but a few signs here and there, like the flat screen on the wall and shiny kitchen appliances. Whatever. To each, their own, I guess.

"You can put your stuff in the living room," Clare calls out to me from the kitchen. "Want something to drink?"

"I'm afraid I'd contaminate your crystal," I reply sarcastically.

She turns to me from the sink, gives me a condescending look, and retorts, "I'll take that as a no."

I shake my head and sigh, plopping myself down on her couch. Squishy.

Clare comes back into the living room, water glass in hand, and says, "You sure know how to keep a person mad at you, you know."

"One of my many talents." I open my bag and grab my copy of _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_. "Do you think she wants quotes, too?"

"Eli." Clare glares at me like she's waiting for me to apologize for changing the subject.

"Clare," I reply mimicking her tone.

"Ugh! Why do I even try with you?" she cries.

"What is it that you wanna _try_, Clare?" I say suggestively, waggling my eyebrows. She throws a pillow at me from the armchair next to the couch.

"Can't you be serious, for once?" This is going to sound really cliché, but Clare actually looks cute mad. Like a little girl whose brother won't give her back her Barbie. I can almost hear her tapping her foot on the hardwood floor.

"What's there to be serious about? It's homework, Clare." I just can't help but drag this on. It's very entertaining.

"Not that, dummy. I mean, about earlier." She looks so frustrated that I can't help but smirk a little. The whole situation is hilarious, and if I didn't care about her, I'd start rolling on the floor from laughing.

She tries again when I don't respond. "You were acting like… I… you… wanted… never mind. I overreacted. Sorry," she finishes, obviously exasperated.

"That's fine," I reply.

-~:~-

Clare let me borrow her laptop to work on my paper as she read the chapters we were assigned for _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_, and we're pretty much silent the whole time. Still, all I can really think about is messing with her and making her all flustered, so I bide my time until I come up with a really good excuse.

"Hey, Clare?"

"Hmm?" she replies, hardly glancing up from her book.

"Where are you in the book?" I ask, genuinely curious. (I finished the book two nights ago).

"Um, Tom's trying to persuade Huck into doing all of these ridiculous things to free Jim. He's pretty eccentric," she adds with a small smile.

"Cool. Uh, could you help me? I suck at conclusions."

She's mulling it over when I see a file on her desktop named "Fan Fiction." I'm considering sneaking a look at it when she says, "Sure."

Taking a seat next to me on the couch, she grabs her laptop and reads my paper from beginning to end. "Not bad, but not something Ms. Dawes is going to appreciate. I say, um, probably one whole week of detention." She gives me a disbelieving smile, which I return with my trademark smirk. Lately, whenever I do that, she turns away from me. Huh.

"So basically, in your conclusion, you're supposed to wrap up your main points with your thesis. You know, connect each of your points back to it. Then you end with a sort of broader-picture-statement."

"Your TV has a broader picture than mine does," I say. It was pretty lame, but I've got better stuff up my sleeve for later.

"Eli," she says condescendingly.

"Yes, Mother?"

She scoffs. "Come on, you've got to concentrate, or else you'll never get this finished."

"Who says I even want to hand it in? It was a dumb assignment, purely to punish me for speaking out. That's what _detention_ is for."

"Oh, please, Eli," Clare says sarcastically, almost cutting me off. "You had your opinionated rant earlier. You have to do this."

Clare doesn't normally piss me off, but I'm beginning to wish she'd just let me be right. Honestly, in my _opinion_ (ha ha), she shouldn't really care if I even showed up to class. But she does. And sometimes I think she's the only one.

Okay, I'm being a little harsh on her.

"Fine," I sigh in defeat. She won. Again.

About fifteen minutes later, my paper is finished. Clare is still reading, laughing a little bit every few minutes. Some people find that annoying, but me, I could care less. And when Clare giggles, it's different than any other person's giggle, and I savor hearing it.

She glances up at me and sees that I'm done with my paper. I considered looking at that "Fan Fiction" file, but thought better of it. It's probably just vampire fan fiction, anyways. Blechh.

"Oh, sorry," she says, closing the book and putting it back in her bag.

"That's okay. It's… intriguing, watching you read," I say, causing her to bite her lip and look away. Good. I'm under her skin again.

"What time is it?" she asks, obviously trying to change the subject.

I check my watch. "Around six-thirty."

"Do you want some dinner? We've got some leftovers, if you want." She still won't look at me. I could just laugh at how nervous I'm making her.

"Are you hungry?"

"I asked you first," she mutters. I just stare at her. Sighing, she replies, "Yeah, a little."

"Then let's eat." Clare nearly flies to the kitchen, eager to leave, perhaps. I wonder what's going through her mind right now.

As I get to the kitchen, Clare's standing at the refrigerator door, looking at her options. "We've got some salad, though I don't know how good that's going to be. And some spaghetti, it wasn't too bad, but it's got this weird olive stuff on it – "

"Got any apples?" I ask genuinely.

"Yup," she gulps. "On the counter."

"Thanks." I pull the biggest from the bunch and start eating.

"Is that all you want?" Clare asks, joining me with a pear and a granola bar in her hand.

"Yeah. How about you? I'm sure you've had better for dinner." She blushes.

"I'm not _that_ hungry, really."

We eat in silence. Again, I could laugh out loud at how uncomfortable Clare looks right now.

Once we're done, Clare asks, "So, are you gonna stay? You can leave if you want." It sounds like she wants me to leave, regardless if I want to or not.

"What if I don't want?" Her eyes get huge after I say this, and she grabs me by the shoulders, pushing me to the living room.

"Okay, Eli, you've got to stop this."

"Stop what?" I ask as innocently as I can without cracking up.

"Saying all these things to make me feel uncomfortable! I don't appreciate being made into some kind of entertainment. Watch some TV if you want _entertainment_." She pushes me back onto the couch and stands in front of me, arms crossed. Like I said before, she looks absolutely adorable when she's pissed.

"Come on, Clare, I'm not making you into entertainment. I'm just teasing you," I insist, a smirk on my face.

"Yeah. In _my_ house. When _my_ parents _aren't home_. Besides, I think you know by now how your 'teasing' makes me feel."

I raise my eyebrows at this. The whole situation seems to be taking a different turn than I had anticipated. "No, I'm not sure I do. Share with me." I sit back down on the couch and pat the seat next to me.

"Eli," she says for what seems like the thousandth time, except less frustrated and more exasperated.

"What? We're friends, right?" She nods at this. "Really good friends. And really good friends tell each other stuff, right?" Again, she nods, taking the seat she had sat in before. "So, just tell me how you feel about me."

"Who said this had anything to do with you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, my 'teasing' is an extension of me, so therefore, me."

She sighs.

"Wait, before you begin, should I make some popcorn? This sounds like it's gonna be really good story." She glares at me, and I don't know if it's the situation or just her that makes her look really hot right now.

"I'm not telling you anything," she replies simply.

"Fine. However, you're still the hostess, so you have to keep me amused. Can we do something?" Thankfully, she doesn't jump to the conclusion that there's a double meaning to what I was saying, which there wasn't! I promise!

"Sure. Um, how about a tour of the house? It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

I nod, curious about what this evening is going to come to.

**A/N: Eeep! I finished the first chapter! Initially, I was just going to let this be a oneshot, but I suck at keeping those one chapter long! Just so you know, the direction that this story is headed in is as follows: It's basically **_**my**_** version of the events that lead up to the whole "I'm sorry I led you on" drama. It most likely _won't_ follow the events of Still Fighting It (i.e. no Romeo and Juliet) ... I know, I know, it's a little too late to be convincing readers that **_**this is how it's gonna be, I promise!**_** But I still wanted to take a crack at it. :) Also, just a WARNING: There's definitely gonna be some language in future chapters – Eli's just so intense like that! Squee! I luvluvluv him! But, enough author's note… review if you'd like to, but please don't feel forced to… I'm not going to hold my chapters hostage until I get "5 good reviews", or suck up to you… you have a right to choose if you'd like to review or not! Besides, I promise you that I don't always review for every chapter or fic either, so I don't wanna be a hypocrite! Reviews are appreciated but certainly not mandatory! Thanks for reading! :) - littlefish**


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